


The Punchline

by AithuzahFic (veritably_mad)



Series: Healthy Friendships Prompts [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritably_mad/pseuds/AithuzahFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Mordred have an ongoing contest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Punchline

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [merlsemrys](http://merlsemrys.tumblr.com/) on [tumblr](http://aithuzah.tumblr.com/post/102850921356) for [this series](http://aithuzah.tumblr.com/tagged/healthyfriendships).

Merlin leaned over the table and nudged Mordred in the side. "I heard a new one in the Lower Town yesterday," he said.

A broad grin stretched Mordred's face to match Merlin's, but across the table he heard Arthur groan. Merlin ignored him and Gwaine, who gladly took the opportunity to tease Arthur about being stiff and humorless, in favor of sharing the joke.

"It's a long one," he added, and Mordred scooted his chair around to give him his full attention.

"Go on, then," the young knight said in a way that reminded Merlin too much of a puppy.

He began in a voice that he knew could be heard by everyone at their end of the table, hoping to elicit a few groans or laughs from the knights. 

"Once upon a time, in a far-off,  _very_  wealthy kingdom located in a much warmer climate than this one, there lived a king in a small grass hut.

"He wasn't the only one living in a grass hut, of course - the entire kingdom, as a symbol of equality and solidarity, lived in similar accommodations. Not a single soul, no matter how rich or important, had a home built out of wood or stone."

Here, Merlin paused to survey his audience. Mordred looked as eager as ever, eyes wide and starry; Arthur looked irritated and vaguely confused, which only made Merlin smirk; Gwaine bore a faint smile; Leon seemed nonplussed; and Morgana's face was entirely blank, though Merlin had come to expect nothing more from her. He could never tell if she enjoyed his and Mordred's exchanges, hated them, or just didn't give a damn.

He continued. "The king, however, wanted a way to show his wealth to the people and anyone who may visit. He couldn't built a grand castle like the other kings, after all, or he would be betraying his bond with his people. So he summoned his council and asked them to find a solution to his dilemma.

"After some debate, the council came to a consensus: they would build a mighty throne worthy of their king. 

"The problem was that such a small hut could not hold both the throne and the king's bed. They consulted the court engineers, who designed a pulley system that could hoist the bed up to the ceiling and lower the throne to the floor and vice versa, so that the king might meet with his people in a seat of power during the day and sleep comfortably at night."

Another survey of the faces around him told Merlin that no one had guessed the direction of the tale quite yet.

"The engineers, clever though they were, did not account for the weakness and instability of grass ceilings. Tragically, one night, the ceiling collapsed, dropping the entire gold-and-jewel-encrusted throne onto the sleeping king, killing him instantly."

The more eager of his listeners leaned forward, sensing the punchline.

"It just goes to show," he said, drawing out the anticipation, "people who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones."

Merlin sat back to enjoy the chorus of groans, cursing, good-natured booing, and reluctant laughter.

"Your turn," he told Mordred, smug.

Mordred laughed and ducked his head, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You've won this round without contest," he said. "Nothing I have is anywhere like as good as that."

"Oh, come now, we can't have only  _one pun_  tonight, no matter how good it was."

"Yes, we can."

"You know you love them, Arthur. You're in pun-ial."

"That - that doesn't even make sense!"

"Ignore him," Merlin said to Mordred, straight-faced and with utmost sincerity. "He doesn't understand the punction of puns in our society like we do."

"Alright, alright, fine! I'll see what I can do." Mordred took a deep breath to calm himself, and in the eerie way he had, his expression smoothed blank in an instant before regaining just a touch of humor.

"I know  _several_ of you have been banned from the kitchen - " he gave Gwaine, Percival, and Merlin knowing looks " - but  _I_ have a wonderful relationship with the cook."

"How did you manage that?" Merlin gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in exaggerated shock. "The woman is a troll! And I would know, I've  _met_  trolls before!"

"You know, I've heard that trolls don't take kindly to thieves."

"Hah! He's got you there," Gwaine crowed.

"And  _you_ ," Merlin shot back before he returned his attention to Mordred. 

Mordred waited until he had their attention before he spoke again. "So, I was speaking to the cook one day when I realized that she was using low-quality spices in her cooking. This seemed unusual to me - why would a royal cook in a wealthy kingdom use anything but the finest of ingredients?"

"Aha!" Merlin exclaimed. "So  _that's_  why her cooking is so terrible." 

"Merlin, do you want to be banned from  _eating_ her food as well as stealing it?" 

"I think you pronounced ' _saved_  from eating' wrong."

"For God's sake, let him finish the damn joke so we can get on with our evening," Arthur snapped, which was, of course, Arthur-speak for "Stop talking so I can hear the rest of the story." Beside him, Morgana raised an eyebrow and speared another slice of meat on her fork.

Mordred laughed. "One day, I gave in. 'Wouldn't your foods taste so much better if you used premium-grade spices?' I asked her.

" 'I once thought as you do,' the cook answered. 'When I was learning, I bought all the best spices - they were fresh and perfectly ground, no flaws whatsoever. But taken with their own perfection, they were unruly spices, constantly fighting each other to be the dominant taste instead of working together.' "

Merlin caught more than one incredulous look at Mordred's description of personified foods.

" 'So I tried lower grade spices - they weren't so perfect, but they weren't so intractable either,' the cook told me. 'And so it is well to remember, good Sir Knight, that a glitch in thyme behaves fine.' "

"Thyme is a type of spice," Merlin loud-whispered helpfully over the jumble of praise and scorn at Arthur, who rolled his eyes and likely would have given him a half-hearted, playful shove had they been close enough together.

"I do know  _some_  things about cooking, you know," he grumbled.

"Just not how to do it."

"Shut up, Merlin," he said, but his lips tugged up into a smile that he hid by taking a drink from his goblet.

Merlin just grinned at him as Gwaine started telling  _his_  favorite kind of puns, which included excessive emphasis on words like  _polishing_  and  _swords_  and  _wielding_ and  _thrusts._

 

The next day, Merlin caught a snatch of conversation as he was passing Morgana's open chamber doors and slowed. He'd never been one to feel guilty about eavesdropping.

"So what else did I miss?" Gwen was saying. She had felt ill the night before and hadn't joined them at dinner.

"Oh, you know how Merlin and Mordred are." Merlin stepped closer to the door, incredulous. Morgana had never shown any interest before, but now...she sounded  _amused._

Merlin heard the rustling of fabric and the scrape of chairs' legs against the stone floors, and he imagined the two of them sitting at the table. "You  _have_  to tell me everything they said."

"I can't tell them half as well as Merlin and Mordred do, you know." 

"Morgana."

"Fine, fine. Glad we both know I'm better than those two," Morgana conceded, and Merlin could  _hear_  the smirk in her voice. He smothered a laugh, but couldn't wipe off his pleased smile and didn't bother to try. He  _had_  to tell Mordred about this right away.

"What do you call a royal who's always getting hurt?"

Merlin recognized this one - he'd told it later in the evening.

"What?"

"Prince  _Harm_ ing."

Gwen giggled. "That should have been Arthur's name."

 Next was one of Mordred's - "A stranger greets Gwaine by saying 'Good day, good Knight!' - she would have to be a stranger to say  _that_  to him - and he turns 'round and goes right back to bed, thinking he must have slept through the day." - then one of his - "A steak pun is a rare medium well done" - and so on until she finally told the longer story-style puns.

He waited until she had almost reached the final words, then burst through the door with his cheeriest, cheesiest smile and declared, "And that's why people who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones!"

"Merlin!" Gwen clapped her hands together and folded over laughing. "What an entrance! How long have you been out there?"

"Long enough to know that Morgana's unflappable demeanor is a facade, and she loves puns as much as the rest of us," he said, swinging his finger to point at the accused.

Morgana leaned her elbows on the table and flipped her hands out palm-up. "You've caught me," she admitted. "But don't tell anyone else. I'm waiting until I find the perfect pun to stun the entire court with its raunchiness. If I time it right, I might be able to make Arthur spit out his wine. I've done it before, and believe me, it is  _worth it._ "

"I believe you," Merlin said. "And if I find a pun that I think might meet your needs, you'll be the first to hear it. In the meantime, I'm not as  _pun_ ctual for Arthur's speech to the Artisan's Guild as I hoped to be, an offense  _pun_ ishable by flying pillow on bad days. So I shall see you later, if I survive." 

With that, he bowed and swept out of the room as Morgana and Gwen chuckled behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Au in which Mordred and Merlin just. Just constantly make puns at each other. Morgana is always the one making deadpan faces but she secretly finds them hilarious. Merlin catches her repeating one of his puns to Gwen #healthyfriendships!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
> 
> This prompt was the origin of the title/tag "healthyfriendships"! 
> 
> Credit to [foshizzlebeth](http://foshizzlebeth.tumblr.com/) for the grass house pun!
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive critiques are always welcome and much appreciated.
> 
> (I'm greedy for feedback, I admit it.)


End file.
